


What's Up Doc?

by Nicci



Category: Stargate SG1
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicci/pseuds/Nicci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's ALWAYS a plan B, or even a Plan C if you are very lucky. Or the one where Daniel drinks something he really shouldn't have!</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Up Doc?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to my website August 2004

  


"Hey, Daniel, what's up?" Jack pushed open the door to the tiny, airless bedchamber and strolled in, a wide grin splitting his face. "Carter said there was a problem?"

Daniel was sitting crossed-legged in the middle of his bed, a strange, circular affair that reminded Jack of something out of an Austin Powers movie. He was still wearing the ceremonial black silk robes that he'd donned for the ceremony the previous night, which made his pallor all the more obvious. 

"Up? What's up?" Daniel hissed furiously. "Is that supposed to be funny?" 

Jack noticed that he was rocking back and forth, like he was in pain. So, Daniel had the hangover from hell? Well, that didn't exactly surprise Jack. His friend had had rather a lot to drink the night before. The whole team had, if truth be told. Jack hid a small smile at the memory of Daniel getting drunk on the local moonshine. 

"Funny? Nope. Not especially," Jack answered, quickly scanning his friend from top to bottom, on the off chance that it was more than just 'the morning after' at work here. Not that there was much of Daniel visible. The robes went from neck to ankle, and he was pretty much cocooned inside them. 

Daniel closed his eyes tight, and began chewing on his bottom lip. He was very pale, and a sheen of sweat had broken out along his forehead. Both of Daniel's fists were pressed firmly against his abdomen. 

Jack unhooked his P-90 and laid it carefully on a chair before coming to sit next to his friend. "You eat something at the shindig last night that didn't agree with you?" he asked softly. 

Normally, when the team visited a new planet, none of them ate or drank anything native, not since that affair years ago, where Jack had started to resemble his own grandpa after Kynthia had spiked his pizza and given him a dose of the nanites. 

Daniel shook his head, high color spreading over his cheeks. "More something that I drank, I think," he gasped, shifting uncomfortably on the bouncy mattress. 

When he didn't continue, Jack took a deep breath and began again. "So like I said, what's up?" 

Daniel's eyes sprung open, and he glowered at Jack, as if the colonel had just suggested they step naked through the wormhole dancing the tango. "Again with the 'up' thing? She just *had* to do it didn't she...?" 

"Whoa there, Trigger! Carter said that something had come up, and you needed my help. That's all." 

"See what I mean? SEE!!?" Daniel's waved his hands frantically, and Jack was forced to duck once or twice or risk losing teeth. 

"Daniel, what the fuck..." 

Unable to form a coherent sentence, Daniel merely dropped his gaze to his lap. He moved his hands apart, laying his palms flat on his thighs. 

Jack followed his line of sight. His eyes then became so wide, they almost fell out of their sockets and rolled across the bedspread. "Carter thought I could help you with *that*?" he croaked, unable to tear his eyes away from the tented black silk sticking up proudly from Daniel's lap. 

Daniel's hands immediately flew back to their previous position, shielding his problem with a rush of embarrassment. "Oh, fuck!" he moaned. "This was a very bad idea." 

Just then, the door flew open again, and Herental Lobbin, the somewhat scatterbrained, high priest of the Temple of Light barrelled in. The native people had no concept of privacy whatsoever. The little man looked flushed, his eyes wide and full of concern. "Sir Jackson," he gushed. "I have come to see if..." His eyes travelled downwards. "Ah, no, alas, it prevails." He pointed regretfully at Daniel's groin. 

"Herental, have you brought the antidote?" Daniel asked, hope gleaming in his eyes. 

Jack frowned. "Antidote? Antidote to what?" 

Herental finally managed to drag his eyes from Daniel's predicament to Jack's face. "The serum, Sir Ohneel. Sir Jackson drank of the cup last night. To aid with the treaty bond between our two peoples." 

Daniel was still sporting an erection, despite the arrival of the high priest, and behind him, three members of the clergy and behind them, several young women dressed in similar black silk robes to Daniel's. 

Now if that had been Jack, his morning tent pole would have wilted at the first sign of unwanted company. As it was, the tiny room was filling up as rapidly as Daniel's cock. Not that Jack was looking at that anymore. Not exactly. But it was rather... distracting. 

"Daniel?" Jack was getting a really bad feeling about this. "What cup is he talking about?" 

"Um, they asked me to drink from this fancy goblet thingie last night. It had like fake rubies and diamonds and stuff on it. It's their idea of sealing a treaty, I gather," explained Daniel as he tried to hold the heavy silk robe away from his groin. "Apparently, one of the vestal virgins gives it up to the lead negotiator. It's considered a great honor by the girls." He sighed and rolled himself into the foetal position. 

"That's all very interesting, Daniel. And judging by your present state, I take it you find the prospect... appealing, but what has that got to do with some fancy cup?" 

"The wine must have contained some kind of stimulant." Daniel squirmed around on the bed, making the silk swathed trouser snake appear even more prominent. "I didn't know, Jack, I swear to God. There was nothing in the briefing notes about Viagra-laced Chardonnay." 

Jack growled at the gaggle of giggling girls trying to squeeze past Herental for a better look at the merchandise. 

Daniel grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to his chin, but it failed miserably to hide the problem. 

Herental thrust one of the girls forward. "Here. The antidote. Yes. I have brought the antidote. Many to choose from. Please, pick one of our lovely priestesses to honor." 

Daniel's beseeching eyes sought out Jack's. Much though the colonel was enjoying the crap out of this latest fiasco, his sense of self-preservation won out. If he didn't diffuse the situation, and soon, Daniel was gonna kill him. 

"Hold it right there, Heidi Fleiss! This is NOT how we do business where we come from. My friend here does not want to play 'hide the sausage' with the ladies of the bordello. How long will his..." Jack cleared his throat, as much to hide the cackle that was threatening to bubble forth as to emphasize his words, " ... his current physical predicament last?" 

Herental looked at him blankly. "Soss-adge? I am, regrettably, unfamiliar with this term. But as to his predicament, as you call it, it will last until he ejaculates, no? Is that not how your penis works?" 

Jack felt a blush burning up his neck. "Hey, lets just keep my penis and its workings out of this, thanks!" he huffed. "Are you saying that he has to come before *it* will go?" 

"Exactly!" smiled Herental, looking quite pleased that he seemed to be getting through to these strange people at last. 

Daniel was whimpering quietly and rocking again. 

Jack dropped his head into his hands. "Okay, okay. Daniel, have you tried... um, you know?" 

Daniel peered at him through fogged-up glasses, his face shiny with sweat. "No, what?" 

"You know, um, have you tried..." Jack made a vague gesture with his hand. 

"Tried WHAT, Jack?" 

"Spankin' the monkey!" Jack said emphatically. "Okay? Sheesh!" 

Herental's eyes widened. "You think that would work?" He turned to a burly guard standing just outside the bedchamber. " Fillot, go fetch Princess Laurisha's pet gibbon..." 

"No!!" both Jack and Daniel protested loudly, in unison. 

Herental whirled back around, confusion written on his face. 

Jack threw his hands up it frustration. "Look, can everyone just clear out? Vamoose. Git. Skeddaddle. Out!" He made little shooing motions and was pleased that the natives seemed to understand. Within moments, only Herental was left. 

Daniel was beet red. "Of course I tried that, Jack!" He looked away and murmured under his breath, "Twenty minutes later, both my hands had gone numb, but *it* was still rigid." 

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Twenty minutes, you say?" Noticing the narrow-eyed look on his friend's face, he cleared his throat and tried to focus in on the current predicament. 

"Is there any *other* way to make that subside? Besides the obvious?" he asked Herental, nodding his head in the general direction of Daniel's very impressive crotch. 

Herental shrugged. "The serum is rendered inactive by the chemicals secreted by the body during intercourse." 

Jack eyed Daniel dubiously. "What if he kinda, you know, spat on his hand and..." Jack made a gesture with his right hand that NO one, anywhere, could possibly misinterpret. 

"Alas, no." The high priest shook his head sadly. "Although saliva might in fact contain the correct chemical, the amount required would be impossible to obtain in that fashion." 

Daniel clambered off the bed and began pacing, hunched over and walking like a crab. Jack tried not to notice the way the robes slithered over his erection, but the sight was almost too hypnotic to ignore. 

"Well, I'm not sleeping with anyone," Daniel raged. "Not without a condom." 

Herental's frown disappeared. "Ah, I know this word. We can arrange a nice apartment with a view of the sea for the coupling. Not *quite* a 'condo' as you know it, but close..." 

"Jack!" Daniel begged. "Do something!" 

"OUT" Jack yelled at the priest, amused that Herental almost smashed his head on the doorframe in his haste to comply. 

Once they were alone, he reached for Daniel's wrist, pulling him onto the bed. "Sit down here, Daniel." Jack blinked rapidly and raised his eyebrows, trying to look his most capable. "Listen, the way I see it," he announced in his best command voice, "we're talkin' blow job here." 

"What?!" Daniel tried to get to his feet, impeded by the honking great boner throwing him off balance. "I can't! It takes me weeks just to get up the confidence to ask a girl her name, much less out on a date! Jack, my brain will starve of oxygen before that happens." Ruefully, he looked down at himself. "Or my dick will just fall off," he whispered. 

"I wasn't suggesting that you ask... I was ..." He cleared his throat. "I was kinda offering, here." He looked at a point on the floor just beyond the toes of his boots, completely unable to raise his eyes to Daniel's face. "Just sayin', you know." 

Daniel's jaw practically bounced off his dick before it slammed shut with an audible click. When he finally managed to figure out how to get it open again, his voice came out as a squeak. "You?" 

"Well, unless you can get your dick in your own mouth...?" He smiled in spite of himself, glancing at Daniel's expression. 

The absurdity of the whole thing was clearly getting to Daniel. He snorted, pointing at Jack's face. "You-" The snorts became giggles. "You-" Very soon he was braying with laughter, long guffaws of howling paroxysms bursting out of him. Before long, he was literally rolling on the floor in floods of helpless laugher, hanging on to his sides, and rolling up into a ball to protect his sensitive, abused crotch. 

Jack stood up and waited, standing over him, straight-faced and prickling with indignation until at some length his friend had regained control of himself. "Would you rather I go get Sam back in here?" he sniped. 

Daniel got up, sniffing and wiping at his wet eyes, his smile dying on his lips. "Oh God, Jack, you were serious, weren't you?" 

Jack sucked his teeth loudly. "Well, thanks for the resounding vote of confidence, Daniel! I mean, you could *try* to look less horrified, you know. It's not like I'd have to take my teeth out first or anything." 

"Aaaaargh!" Daniel wailed, covering his ears with his hands. "TMI! Jack, I need my brain washed out now. What the hell're you thinking?" 

Jack pointedly stared at Daniel's still rampant cock problem and rolled his eyes. "Well, since you ask, I was thinking I could blow you, and then we could all get this show on the road and go home." He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, in the general direction of the door. 

Daniel blinked. 

"'Course, that's only plan A," Jack confided with a lopsided grin. 

Daniel frowned. "There's a Plan B?" 

"Sure. Plan B; I blow you, then you blow me, and *then* we all go home." Jack crossed his arms, looking down his nose at Daniel, as if to dare argue with the logic of his idea. 

Daniel gaped, eyebrows climbing off his face with shock. 

"Plan C is my favorite, though." In for a penny, in for a pound. He waggled his eyebrows at Daniel. "Wanna hear?" 

Daniel nodded, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh, why not? I'm already freaked out beyond all redemption." 

"Okay," Jack said affably, rubbing his hands together. "Here it is. Plan C. I blow you, then I fuck you, and then we all go home. Then we do it again, at my place, all night, until both our dicks fall off." Jack grinned as his eyes tracked the tiny twitches occurring at silk-festooned groin level. He *had* intended to pass those remarks off as a joke, but it looked very much like he wouldn't have to. 

Before Daniel could answer, the door suddenly flew open, and Herental bounded in. "Good news! I have spoken with the apothecary, and he knew of an antidote potion. Here, Sir Jackson, drink this, and your erection will vanish like the morning mist at dawn." 

Daniel stared dumbly at the vial of purple liquid. Hesitantly, he reached for it, but Jack beat him to it, snatching it out of the high priest's hand. "But it will come back, right? You know, when he wants it to. I mean, the whole vanishing, misty thing isn't permanent?" 

Herental shook his head happily. "It merely counteracts the serum. Once the current unnatural turgidity abates, Sir Jackson's penis will be his to command once again." 

Jack stared at the man blankly. "Unnatural turd-- what?" 

"He means I'll still be able to get it up, Jack," Daniel explained helpfully in a patient voice. 

"Oh! Fine! Good!" Jack turned to Herental and glowered at him. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" The priest got the message and backed quickly out of the room. 

Turning slowly, Jack advanced on Daniel with a small smile. "Okay, then, Alice. Drink me," he drawled, tossing the vial to Daniel before he could balk at the unsubtle double entendre. 

Daniel looked doubtful, but he managed to choke it all down. "Tastes like shit," he groused. "Bitter. Sort of salty. Oysters or something gross." He looked down at himself. "But God, I think it's already working!" 

Jack waited for a few moments, then stepped right into his personal space. He reached down, cupping Daniel's rapidly wilting erection in one gentle hand. 

Daniel gasped. "Jack, what're you doing?" 

Jack smiled as the softening flesh beneath his fingers began to lengthen and harden once again. "So, plan C it is then?" 

Daniel gulped, his eyes fluttering shut. Jack crossed over to the door, yanked it open, and stuck his head out into the corridor. "Yo, Herring-tail!" he shouted. "We're leaving! Slip us a couple of bottles of that ceremonial wine stuff, will ya? And we'll say no more about it." 

"Antidote, Jack!" Daniel hissed as he came to stand behind him. "Don't forget the antidote." 

Jack closed the door and turned around, pulling Daniel in close. "Oh, I don't think we'll need any of that, do you?" 

Daniel smile lit up his face, his hand softly stroking the impressive bulge in the pants of Jack's fatigues. "Apparently not!" 

Plan C it was.


End file.
